


#30 - Line

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Eurovision 2017 Fanfic Challenge [14]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mentioned Character Death, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 08:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: "Dead?""That's what I said.""Was it... did he... during the Battle?""No. His death was reported by the puppet Ministry more than seven months before. It seems likely that he either refused to join or attempted to back out. His place of residence shows signs of an altercation. His death was announced as the work of the Order, but as he was never a target, that seems unlikely. This is the address of the cemetery where he was buried."





	#30 - Line

"Dead?"

"That's what I said."

"Was it... did he... during the Battle?"

"No. His death was reported by the puppet Ministry more than seven months before. It seems likely that he either refused to join or attempted to back out. His place of residence shows signs of an altercation. His death was announced as the work of the Order, but as he was never a target, that seems unlikely. This is the address of the cemetery where he was buried."

Oliver Wood nodded, not trusting himself to speak over the lump in his throat as he took the piece of parchment from the Ministry official. 'An altercation' they called it. Choking out a quiet, "Thanks," he apparated to a location not far from the address he'd been given, walking quickly, stumbling, as he began to search among the headstones.

Twenty-some minutes passed before he found the one he was looking for. It was little more than a rock lying on the ground, and he noted with no small rage that it was cracked, as if it had been smashed by something heavy.

**Flint, Marcus**  
**1974 - 1997**

That was it. No epithet, no symbols, nothing more than a name and a date.

Oliver was suddenly and intensely struck by the memory of the last time he saw Flint.

~ ~ ~

"Look, it was fun while it lasted, but it's over. Get over it," Marcus grunted, face blank. Oliver shook his head, "'Fun'? Marcus, we've been together for almost five years. You call that a bit of fun?"

"Just drop it, okay?"

"I will not! I demand a better explanation."

"Can't you just accept the fact that I'm a dumb asshole, move on, and find somebody better?"

"But I don't want somebody else."

"Oliver," Marcus paused to take a breath, "You deserve someone who can be there for you. Someone who treats you better than I ever have. I can't so get out."

Realization dawned on Oliver, "You don't want to break up at all, do you? But you think you have to so you're trying to make it easier. Why?"

Marcus' shoulders dropped at that, unable to keep up the facade when he'd been called out. He sat down heavily on the bed.

"My family contacted me a couple days ago. He's going after them. Last time... last time we were left alone as long as we kept quiet and didn't help the other side. This time, though, his support has been weakened and he doesn't have as much time to gain power. He's targeting every pureblood family he can find, especially Slytherin ones, and my family, they're going to give in. Better to live in a bad situation than die for nothing and all that."

"Marcus - "

"Look, I know what you're going to say. You're a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. Go down fighting and all that. But I don't know if I can. I don't support him. I couldn't, you know that. But I don't think I'm brave enough to stand up to him, and I don't want you to see if I... if I can't. If I follow my family. And I don't want them to use you as a way to get to me, either. So please, just leave?"

Oliver was shaken by that revelation, but he had to admit, he could see Marcus' logic. There was no easy way for them to be on the same side of this war. He walked over to stand in front of Marcus, cupping his jaw in one hand, kissing him as gently as he physically could, nothing like the ferocity that was their norm.

"Remember me, Marcus, no matter what," he breathed as they broke apart, steeling himself to leave. When he turned, Marcus spoke quietly, "If we both make it out of this, I'll look for you."

"And I you."

~ ~ ~

It had taken him two months to get an appointment with the Ministry. Everyone in the entirety of Magical Britain knew someone who had gone missing during the war and they all wanted answers. Oliver had only gotten in so early because Harry had pulled a few strings for him after they'd caught up in June.

Oliver knelt beside the grave, one finger tracing the letters on the stone, "It looks like you found your courage after all."

"Actually, I didn't."

Oliver jumped hard enough to smash his knee into the headstone before twisting around to see none other than the supposedly dead man himself.

"Marcus? But - "

"I'm dead? Yeah, no."

"How?"

"Well, I kept remembering you, like you asked, and all of a sudden I wasn't brave enough not to stand up to him. Disappointing you felt scarier than dying for you, after all. But that didn't mean I wanted to die. So I faked it."

"Well enough to fool the Dark Lord? When did you get so clever? What happened to the boy who had to retake his seventh year?"

Marcus chuckled, "Hey, 'cunning' is a Slytherin trait, isn't it? And don't House traits often take years to show? What about that little Gryffindor boy, the one in Potter's year, who couldn't stand up for his fucking pudding if someone had tried to take it from him? I heard he was a major factor in turning the Battle in your side's favor."

"I suppose you're right. Still, it's weird to think of you as the man who outwitted Voldemort."

"And it's weird to think of you as someone with interests other than quidditch, and yet here we are."

"I found out you were dead and then actually not dead in the span of two hours. Can we not?"

"I dunno, can we?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, "You're impossible."

"Speaking of impossible, how are we going to tell the Ministry?"

"Tell the Ministry what?"

"That I'm alive. I don't think they'd allow you to marry someone who's legally dead. They call that necrophilia, I've heard," Marcus grinned.

"I- What- Did you- Was that a proposal?" he spluttered.

"Well, not if you're a necrophiliac. Sorry, I'm not really into that. But I figured we've waited long enough, why wait longer? If you had moved on like I suggested, you probably wouldn't be here, sobbing over my corpse like a bereaved widow."

"You really know how to build that romantic mood, don't you?" Oliver shook his head, "But you're right, I suppose. I couldn't move on if I tried, and I didn't try, and there really isn't a reason to wait."

"I'm glad you can see reason."

"Is that it? Are we engaged now?" To be honest, Oliver didn't really know how this worked. Whatever he'd been told about engagements had been about him proposing to some girl and he'd just zoned out and thought about quidditch during those conversations.

"Pretty much."

"Good."

"Now can you stop walking on my grave? It's disrespectful."

"You're not even dead!"

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so maybe Flint is a bit ooc, but like he said, it took Neville seven years to get full recognition of his bravery. Maybe he just needed ten or so years to reach a state of cunning.


End file.
